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Three … Two … One - As I released my lips from her sweet tongue I tasted victory. We made it to a new year and excitement was

“Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change? / Who should be hurt? Will we remain? / You need a resolution, I need a resolution /

‘Twas the night before Christmas and a few feet from where a man vows to love a woman until the day that 8x8x8 is 4, artists’ renderings of

“… Dealing with a heart that I didn’t break I’ll be there for you, I will care for you I keep thanking you, just don’t know.” –Drake. Whoa, wait,

Prior to writing this story, I sat down, shut up, researched and interviewed before drawing a conclusion or commenting. "I said I was amazin’. Not that I’m a Mason.”

Psychologists made headlines a few years back with research data that suggests that our musical tastes not only indicate our intellectual aptitude, but also indicate what type

I will more than likely never be accused of being a so-called “early adapter”, that person who sleeps outside on the frigid concrete just to be first in

"Deception is the only felony..." -Kanye West Remember Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head? They were popular American toys consisting of plastic models that could be decorated with a variety

I love music.

From the motions of making love, to the contractions of childbirth, life is rhythmic. From the drums of African slaves, to the drum line marching in